Yesterday I got to eat the biggest bowl of gyudon I have ever seen in my entire life (c/o Lawrence--BELATED GREETINGS TO YOU and Mike, who did all the inviting even though he was sick and became more so because of the pepper he put in his giant bowl of noodles). I got to vandalize a wallet in exchange for the giant bowl of gyudon and everybody couldn't have been happier (except maybe Mike, who was sick after all and couldn't eat dessert--not to worry we shall have dessert next time). I don't think I'll ever forget this day. I got to drive long distances and driving always relaxes me.
Below I am retyping what I wrote on my yellow notebook this morning.
Today is October 3. We are meeting Tom Dixon at the Intercontinental. I drew a chair he invented as a plate for last year's furniture class. He's pretty famous and--even more delightfully--still alive.
I don't feel so well though. On the streets I'm not sure if it was my pallor or my shimmering pants that caught stares.
That's all. Below that are my notes from Tom Dixon's talk. (Suffice it to say my unwellness went away instantly as I entered and saw all these awesome looking people sauntering around in the room.) I like Mr. Dixon. He was unassuming and had a great (read: dark) sense of humor, which came out a lot more at the end when he got more comfortable with the crowd. But to be honest, I was a little disappointed, because I didn't really learn anything new. Inspiring, yes, but it's like he shared to us how he does things in his own way and he goes on to tell us that we should do things our own way, which I have already suspected from the beginning was what we were supposed to do anyway.
There were other big names that went up on stage (I didn't recognize any of them, except one, who apparently teaches at our school, and the only one I liked among them) but all they did was drone on about themselves (except for that one I liked, Mister Alcazaren, he says we should all learn about how things are made) and thank Tom Dixon.
We asked Mister Dixon a question during the forum (How do you start your conceptual process?), but he emitted a sound that sounded suspiciously like a scoff and said he didn't have any particular process, but that each piece had a story of its own. I liked his answer. Deep in my floundering artist soul, I agreed. But our curriculum insists that everything must have a system, an order, a pattern...that we should be able to explain every step. Where does all the fun go, then? Tom Dixon was right when he said that school beats out the fun in you (he implied it anyway, encouraging apprenticeship instead of a design course).
At long last, the forum ended, and we rose from our seats, a little unsure ("that was it?" "yeah, I guess. You going home?" "Nah, I think I'll go shopping for a bit.") Until after losing sight of our blockmates we realized they went in front for a photo op. Of course we wanted one, too. So we went up front and while waiting for Mister Dixon to finish his interview, guess who we spotted....
KENNETH COBONPUE.
So naturally we squealed over his way and demanded (read: asked nicely knowing he wouldn't refuse) a photograph, and he was all smiles and politeness and perfection (I'm probably idolizing him a bit). He actually made that forum worth it. One of my life goals was to meet him one day and finally I have that done with. Lovely.
October looks promising :)
